


In Chains

by rizlowwritessortof



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Sam - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:15:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizlowwritessortof/pseuds/rizlowwritessortof
Summary: This is my third installment for @mrs-squirrel-chester ‘s Album Fanfic Writing Challenge. My album is Smokin’ Hearts and Broken Guns - Shaman’s Harvest. This one was inspired by In Chains from that album.





	

_**Angel of death and mercy, come take me from this cage** _

_**Cause these four walls and iron bars have been witness to the rage** _

It’s so hard to pretend sometimes.

Dean wants me to be okay. And God knows, I want to be okay.

The worst thing about it is – I can’t even make believe that it wasn’t that bad. Because he’s been there. Dean may not have been in a cage with two pissed-off archangels, but he was in Hell for forty fucking years. Well, down there it was forty. And for ten of those years, he was turned into a torturer of souls, which he’s never forgiven himself for.

So, like I said, I can’t tell him it wasn’t so bad. I wasn’t in there for long, not compared to Dean’s trip downstairs. But Lucifer made good use of the time he had me in there.

I can keep myself busy during the day, between the hunting and the research, but the nights… the nights are never-ending, horrifying, and sometimes I feel like I really have lost it. I mean, ever since that ‘wall’ came crashing down in my brain, I’m just hanging on by a thread. I have hallucinations, and it feels like I’m really back there, like the flesh is being stripped from my bones, or hooks are piercing through muscle and sinew, or hot pokers are being shoved into my eyes.

Or, worse yet, Lucifer himself taunting me, telling me I’m not really back, that they’re just dangling the dream of being out in front of me only to pull it away and laugh, and I’m really still in that cage.

_**Like a cripple without his cane, a king without a crown.  
** _

_**The passion that once consumed me has turned to ashes on the ground.** _

I try to ignore him. I really do. But there’s something so debilitating about having someone take that much pleasure from your pain. Sometimes I just feel like running, as fast and hard as I can, until I come across an obstacle to throw myself into hard enough to be blissfully unconscious for just a little while. And then there are the times when I feel like curling up into a ball, a cringing, whimpering pile of worthless humanity that just can’t take any more.

_**Warm the ice that fills my veins, pumping till I’m numb.  
** _

_**Lead me out of the darkness where it is so hard to escape from** _

I have to believe Dean when he tells me that I’m really here, that they really got me out. I have to hold on to that truth. When Lucifer shows his face, I shove my thumb into that fucking wound in my hand, dig into it until it bleeds again sometimes, watch him fade away. The wave of relief that washes over me in that moment… I can’t describe it. The only problem is, it never lasts.

Sometimes I feel like giving up. Sometimes it seems like the actual torture was easier than the dread and terror I deal with now.

But Dean believes in me. He says I can do it. And I have to believe him. I have to fight and hope that it’ll get better, easier. I have to believe that someday I’ll be free from this.

_**Somebody break these chains** _


End file.
